I have been thinking of entanglements for a while — was searching the dictionary and thesaurus just to make sure that I was going the right way in my thoughts. Found the term fascinating. An interesting point is, that the term has found a lot of fan following in Physics, especially with the theory of Quantum Entanglement initiated by Einstein and his collaborators. Interested readers can fish out the meanings themselves.

This article however, does not pick-up the debates around the term as used in Physics. It rather thinks of the lay use of the term as ‘confusion’ and ‘inter-twining’ of issues and thoughts in a seemingly never-ending bunch. Personally, when I reflect on the term I find it carries a deep philosophical problem of existence and might in fact hold the keys to solving the puzzles of human mind. We all live in entanglements that we have either created for ourselves or else others have woven for us. You might call it the existential dilemma of our lives.

Talking about entanglements, there is an episode from my hostel days that comes to mind. Possibly it might help to substantiate my own quest that I am sharing with you and provide a meaning to the issues that I am trying to think of.

The time following Diwali used to be the best time of the year at hostel. Being a long vacation, most of the inmates would go away for celebrating Diwali with their family and friends. Those of us who were left back in the hostel during the vacation had the entire hostel to ourselves and additionally the charm of an early winter and quieter Diwali. We lighted Deeyas in our own rooms and bought gifts or ate out.

During one of those diwali vacations, we bought a wind-chime as a gift for ‘T’s’ (let us assume that the name is just ‘t’ )room. A beautiful pink wind-chime with a lilting melody, soft silky threads connecting one rod with another, and a lovely pink glow. It would be a delight to listen to the tinkling of the chime rods in the evening by the glowing fairy bulbs. The wind-chime had suddenly got to be the eye-catcher for everyone who passed by through the open doors of her room.

I had got used to waking up in the morning, holding a tooth-brush in hand, walking sleepily into her room and playing with the wind-chime for a while before beginning the day. One morning when I walked into her room, I saw that the thin silken strings of the chime had completely got intertwined and it seemed that it would remain in that complicated lump forever. The strings being that delicate, it was tough to get out of the entanglement without damaging the chime.

I sat in her chair for around half and hour and struggled with the chime, trying my way to force open the knots, getting frantic once in a while. While I kept trying for long, slowly started losing patience, and once in fact worked my way through the strings with some harshness.

That is when ‘T’ intervened. She took away the chime from my hands and said: “Anne life’s entanglements are much more complex than the entanglement of these strings. It takes patience and perseverance if you really intend to open-up the entanglements. Some of these strings are really ‘knotty’, but opening them up is not impossible. Stop competing with time to frantically open the strings of the chime or of life — let life and the strings slowly un-knot themselves from all entanglements. Do not lose the opportunity of listening to the melody of the chimes by forcing your way to open-up the strings. You will then make it more complicated. Keep it simple — carry less baggage and walk entangle free’.

It all sounded like a pep-talk or a motivational lecture at the first go. I gave a sheepish grin and thought that I was receiving all that gyan because I meddled with her wind-chime. Later through the day, whenever I came back she was slowly un-knotting the knots of the chime. I observed that she would go to lab as usual, have lunch/dinner, and whenever she got the time she would be working on the chime trying to remove the entanglements. In two days time, she entered my room gleefully and showed me the tinkling wind-chime and said: “See now it’s free of all entanglements! I am just putting a wooden wick on the top of the strings and that would stop the strings from colliding.”

You might say that the event was minor, doesn’t bring Himalayan changes in the world. True. But, I still draw a lot of inspiration from that insignificant event. Whenever, my own set of entanglements haunt me, I sit quietly for a while and reiterate to myself: “if that wind-chime could open-up from absolute entanglements, so could my own life as well, someday…so, patience”.

Entanglements are not always negative. Family, friends, relationships, work — each can be an entanglement in its own way. Some of these are welcome and some are hassles. Distance from them depends on personal space requirements and your capacity to distance yourself from situations.

These pep-talks on entanglements and dis-entanglements might sound drab to those who have taken to the paths of cynicism. However, if you could, then do believe that patience is far more tough to practice than impatience, dis-entanglements are tougher than entanglements, and to forgive is tougher than to keep hating. It shows the breadth of your capacity to dis-entangle.

Take care! Share your entanglements if any and correct me if I am interpreting the term in ways different than how it should be ….

Leaving you this evening with a thought from Anne Frank:

I simply can’t build my hopes on a foundation of confusion, misery and death… I think… peace and tranquillity will return again.

Walking down the stairs of my office for a class, I overheard a group of my students discussing about a colleague: “yaar, that Prof is OK, but he makes us work so damn hard! Why? Why do we need to work so hard on assignments, projects, seminars etc. when we don’t need half of that in the courses? Why can’t we do what we wanted to do?” I smiled at the concern — very true.

I had no reason to interrupt, did not want to interrupt in the conversations either, so hurried down the stairs. But, have been thinking about these statements since then. In fact, have been thinking of a tea-time conversation during my student days, when one of my seniors said mockingly, “these young faculty members are such chameleons. The moment they turn their tables from student-ship to faculty-ship they think that they are Einsteins. Damn! they make you work so hard unnecessarily!” In another instance, a student wrote, “she/he thinks he/she is a great Prof. and makes us work more than we would have worked in an Elec course” …. True — very true 🙂 .

Let us try turning the tables. A colleague who teaches in another University in Western India recently confided, “I have a strange issue. What do I teach my students? They seem to be knowing everything from the Internet — whatever I need to discuss with them, they already know that. I am facing a problem of too much knowledge rather than too little. ” I gave it a thought and said to her, ” is it the problem of too much-knowledge or half-cooked knowledge? Maybe we need to recycle the knowledge already available on Internet and deliver the applications of that, so as it make it possibly more interesting for people who are learning?”

True that ignorance can be handled, but over-intelligence is a tough-nut. However, my observation is that if the world is producing over-intelligent, hyper-think-tank people, then where are the gen-next Einsteins or Keats or Sartre or Virginia Woolf or Wiener or Gallagher? No, I don’t mean to say that these were the only great people of the world or that there is some canon there — my concern is that are we actually finding academic egotism in places that are supposed to be higher in the so called “rankings”? Some of my friends who have not been in any Indian ‘great’ academic systems and belong to humble colleges across the country have shown much more intellectual breadth and broad-mindedness than many of the ‘elites’. It is a subjective issue you would argue.

Why are we not producing lateral thinking, perspectivizing human beings, rather than ideologically stubborn, information-crammed citizens? In the last guest post that was published on Iris, a reader commented that ‘people comment on only love stories and Bollywood masala rather than on issues of social and emotional concerns’ (paraphrased). That is perhaps because we live in a world of denial rather than acceptances. Simply knowing facts and relating facts to knowledge are two different things.

There is another aspect that comes to my mind when we are talking of teaching and learning. This part pertains to the social dimensions. When people have thoughts that they are over-working due to unnecessary pressure, there are also places in India including some legendary colleges and universities where there are NO teachers and where there is an acute shortage of faculty — forget about quality faculty. There are strikes and sine die in many Universities and Institutes just because there is no one to teach. There are learners but no teachers in these places. Many new aided-colleges across India have students who might have paid an amount that would be difficult for their parents or themselves to arrange. There are institutes of high repute which face faculty crunch due to geographical deterrent or else managements or cultural factors. The supply demand chain is highly skewed there — students are willing to learn but there is no one to teach there.

Places like IITs and Central Universities have been fortunate to attract some bright people as students as well as faculties. But on the one hand when there is an excess, on the other, there is also an absence. Sometime when you work in a village school taking a break from your ‘high-profile research’, you will be suddenly refreshed — not because there is a glorification of your education, but because there is a yearning to learn. An acqauinatance who is a senior scientist in a research lab came from a humble village school. He was the only person in that village who subscribed to an English newspaper during his high-school days and the newspaper would always be three days delayed from the date of publication — yet, he would enjoy reading it.

Another small example of the yearning to learn. This time it is Prof. P.C. Kar’s (I am deliberately taking his name) example. Those who know him, know that he is an extremely humble human-being, but one of the strongest academicians in Literature. As a graduate student, I had once had a chance to closely observe him during a workshop. We were making series grad-student presentations on theory. During each presentation I saw him quietly sitting in a corner and taking down notes. Whenever he had a query he would either request the student to help him learn or else he would go back read the notes, read and come back to discuss. Any new book that would come to the library, he would suggest: “If you cannot read the book, at least touch it and smell the pages — there is something very enigmatic about the smell of the leaves of a book”.

Evan Esar once said, “America believes in education: the average professor earns more money in a year than a professional athlete earns in a whole week”. In India the scenario is skewed and strange. We cannot take the American model always in our own context — the Indian psyche works at a different scale. In my opinion, education here has a different rationale — we still need a lot of teaching along with the emphasis on research, because the level of education and understanding is yet to reach the global benchmark. The concern is not learning, teaching or ignorance — the concern is an apathy towards knowledge in a consumerist society.

This time the other section of my readers will complain that I have not got any humane tale to narrate for this weekend’s post, no Bollywood and no love stories — let us keep that for the Valentine’s week 🙂 . Just a short unrelated gossip — late evening I heard someone singing outside with a dholak, “Saajan mera ush paar hai milne ko dil beqarar hai” (“my love is on the other side of the riverbank, and my heart craves to meet him”) … curious that I am, went to out to see from my balcony where the wedding was. To my surprise, I found a group of middle-aged women singing the song in the courtyard of the nearby temple. This happens only in India — we rationalize everything as philosophy.

A handful of friends who are concerned about our well-being once in a while call us up or drop in the chat and ask, “what’s up?” . I have a rehearsed answer, “you know what, I am writing two major papers, reading a book on cave history, preparing my lecture notes….” and the list continues until they get bored, yawn and decide to say a ‘bye’. What they know I mean is ‘I am trying to do [something] when I am doing nothing….” 🙂 Some of them are kind enough to point out, “Oh yes, we actually see you online most of the times on FB or Gmail” or else “Yeah, you have no time but still you blog quite often” — in crude Mumbaiya language — you are doing lukkha. Sometimes blogging is seen as a crime, waste of time and talent.

As a student of literature, I was given dollops of British literature at the beginning of my career. The smell of coffee-houses, charm of the British countryside, and the slow journey of classic novels. Of the Shakespeares and Miltons, of the Lawrences and Hardys, my pick always used to be romantic poetry or else essays — ‘personal essays’, precisely. I had a dream of writing like Charles Lamb or J.B.Priestly in the genre of essays. However, as the genre itself, my own creativity went into a decadent phase. Yet, I believe every form has its ups and downs and the genre of essays and ‘personal essays’ would also one day see the light of the day — my estimate and hope, being blogs.

There is a favourite read out of all these picks, J.B.Priestley “On Doing Nothing” 😉 . As a young student, I had taken that essay so seriously that always felt a pride when people asked me questions and I would arrogantly reply, “I am doing nothing”. The joy of reading that particular essay cannot be described in words. I really used to imagine lying on the grass looking at the Orion in the night sky, feeling the dew on the skin, and simply…doing nothing. What a delight it was reading these lines, your deep-secret desires, being narrated by an iconic author:

You have spent at least several days rushing from one to the other, explaining everywhere how desperately busy you are, with one eighteen-hour day after another, secretaries fainting, wife telephoning to the doctor about you; no time to eat properly, just living on brandy and mysterious blue capsules. Then, slap in the middle of all this hullabaloo, pack it up for a day or two, allowing each gang to conclude you are toiling for one of the other gangs, and do nothing, absolutely nothing… yawn and stretch…; glance at newspapers, dip into light literature, and gossip; but no more. No gardening, sharp walks, correspondence, nor even jobs about the house. Get as close to doing nothing as it is possible for a Western Aryan or whoever we are. Give an occasional thought, for spice and devilment, to the worrying colleagues. Refuse to answer the telephone—too busy. It is a dirty trick—but delicious. — (J.B.Priestley, “On Doing Nothing”, in Delights, Ch-57)

Some of the expressions might appear offensive to my readers because of its gender content and racial tones (Aryan is not a happy expression post-Hitler). However, I would insist that Priestley was one such author who brought smiles on the faces of his readers. Writing humour in a post 2nd World War phase must have been tough….

Cut to the present.

Perhaps, those were the times when one could think about ‘doing nothing’ and survive. In my undergraduate days when computers, laptops, Internet, social-networking were not the very ‘in’ things in Odisha, and when we lived on the sixth floor of the library amidst greying books, and dust-covered pages, “Doing Nothing”, Priestley style was imaginable. Landline phones were under parental control and no friends dared to call unless under the pretext of ‘home-work’ or ‘examination discussion’ . You could go completely ‘underground’ for days and months and re-emerge freshened up from whatever you were doing/ not doing. Meeting friends after a vacation would be like a mini college-fair and everything had an exaggerated gloss of a ‘filmy’ meeting after a lonnnggg separation.

With communication boom and with my personal addiction to communication and ‘need’ for communicating, ‘doing nothing’ seems almost like a dream and being ‘out of touch’ another impossibility. Always the appearance is that of ‘doing something’.

As students at IIT, if we appeared silent or offline for half-a-day, friends would call back inquiring if we are alright. In fact we had a small group joke that if we remain out of contact for half-a-day, either we have done break-through research or else we are pining over something/someone or else we are downloading some song/movie.

Being ‘on-line’ especially was a boon for ‘singles’. A prolonged ‘off-line’ status usually was taken as a sign of someone being ‘engaged’. Social networking used to be a succour for all the kindred souls devoid of human company (non-literary: the addas for singles ) People have different ways of ‘doing things’, and social-networking statuses are usually indicative of these ‘doings’ and ‘not-doings’.

Even post-student days, the urge to be ‘doing something’ is so strongly addictive that it is difficult to keep it away and to give time to yourself and observe things around you. This evening as I was returning home after office, for the first time in the past many months I observed that there is a camel having a pretty little smile tied outside the campus premises. For the first time I saw that there are some flowers by the campus by-lanes. I was observing the setting sun looking a greyish-yellow amidst the layers of evening dust, making me think of many people, so many friends, relatives and well-wishers who are with me and some who have left me.

The mind is so preoccupied with thoughts of work and otherwise that subtle things of life are missed.

The plans from now to forever, go on so deeply, that perceiving powers lower and so do imagination, creativity — because we are always doing something, hardly giving our selves the chance to be fallow.This summer my mother pointed out to me this restlessness. She said ‘either I see you glued to the Internet or to some book. When you leave one of these you grab the other…why not give yourself some break and just do nothing’ .

A dormant volcano when bursts is much more hazardous than the active ones because it has not been active for a certain phase. Creativity or scholarship or even yourself also have the capacity of that dormant volcano. However, the difference should be that instead of wrecking havoc by doing things that destroy us and people around us, can we do something positive by ‘doing nothing’? I must be sounding preachy and I am sure you will sing this after reading the article:

The one you warned me all about
The one you said I could do without
We’re in an awful mess, and I don’t mean maybe – please
Papa don’t preach, I’m in trouble deep
Papa don’t preach, I’ve been losing sleep —

( “Papa Don’t Preach” )

(This post comes earlier than my weekend posts because of some appointments tomorrow)

It’s been six months now that Iris has had a post. Felt many a times the urge to connect with my readers — but what to write always remained a question. I didn’t want to write something which I did not feel about or where there was no connection with the soul of Iris. That’s how this blog site been — it doesn’t post anything which Iris has not been faithful about — no empty promises, no shallow new year resolutions. The love story of 1980s which I had promised to post after my last post remains incomplete because of permission issues. Thought of tracing the journey of ‘Iris’ and ‘Anne’ so far.

So what should I write about? IIT and life in IIT as a student have become stories of the past, distant, and dream-like. People, friends, colleagues, and contexts have seemed to have drifted far away. However, IIT has been so deeply rooted in this blog that whether I should delete this blog and start anew, a fresh blog, is something that I have been considering now for very long. Whether Iris should only be issue-based or theme-based is another question. There is additionally the burden of a teacher whose blog posts might be read by students and friends — responsible and self-reflexive writing. Iris always had the fear of losing her readers, just as the fear of losing friends. Interestingly, higher has been this fear the more have been the losses so far. However, ‘Iris’ is not simply ‘Iris’ the blog, it’s been part of an identity — Anne’s identity. It has been a part of the life of a girl who has struggled between ‘intellectualism’, ‘romanticism’, ‘realism’, and ‘idealism’ — the struggle to be an obedient daughter, a fantastic sister, a great friend, an amazing teacher, a supportive colleague, the chirpy-forgiving girl friend, the ‘super-researcher’ — the ‘Indian’ girl in quintessence. Rebellion is something that is not every person’s cup of tea and in that sense Iris has been conventional, extremely conventional.

2010 as a year has been a year of starts and conclusions, a year of makeups and breakups, a year of dreams and frustrations, a year of new hopes and many achievements, a year of travel and un-settlement — 2010 has been a roller-coaster year for Iris. The number of posts has dramatically reduced from 1 post every week which was the way I wrote during my hostel days, to 1 post in six months.

I have always been a great admirer of the movie ‘You’ve Got Mail’ — can watch it number of times. 2010 has been a complete manifestation of the story of ‘You’ve Got Mail’ in the life of Iris. As it happens in the movie, in life too there are some worlds which are self-created and the shattering of those worlds is as silent as the worlds themselves. However, unlike the ‘happy ending’ of movies like ‘You’ve Got Mail’, life may not be having a Tom Hanks coming in the end shouting ‘Brinkley!’ . It’s true — life is not a movie, it’s stranger than a movie.

Hopefully, 2011 brings brighter days and happening evenings in the life of the readers of Iris. Iris doesn’t promise anymore to come back with a new post. We all have ‘moved on’. However and whenever there is a need to connect, the need to share, the need to talk, Iris will be back.But for the time-being “the shop around the corner” (those who have seen You’ve Got Mail would know what am I talking about) has to close.

Apart from Iris and its posts, there is an unrelated passing thought which I would like to share with you before signing off. In India the retirement age of citizens is somewhere close to 58 yrs-60 yrs. Most Indians are healthy and their work-efficiency is still high at the age of 58. The moment they retire from service their right to lead a dignified life is curtailed by society and family. They are viewed as good for nothing, cranky senior citizens and that’s what they turn themselves into. Why do Indians believe in such an early retirement age? In a country where the politicians work beyond 80s, why then has the middle class human being to retire at the age of 58-60 and be treated as a burden on the society and family?Do think about it….

On that note, Iris says a goodbye to her readers 🙂 …. Have a great and fruitful year ahead.

As the cab moved through the gullies of Mumbai towards the domestic airport something snapped inside. The feeling of leaving behind all that I acquired for the past five years gnawed at my heart….

Rain clouds blurring the evening sky

Long ago, I had written an article named ‘Sunrise to Sunrise: a Day’s Work at IIT’ . This post is going to be diametrically opposite to the earlier posts on IIT and life at IIT. For those of you who are waiting for a sequel to the Koraput travel article, you’ll have to wait a little longer because I felt an urgent need to note down the feeling of a researcher leaving IIT after graduation lest I forget the entire confusing web of emotions. Actually, the world which rests on ‘moving on’ funda won’t be able to connect with my article because this is going to be “senti” and a “tear-jerker” in the language of any IITian. But then…. 🙂

Remember the 1967 Hollywood blockbuster ‘The Graduate’ directed by Mike Nichols and written by Charles Webb? Remember the confusion and fixity of Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) a 21 year old graduate who tries to search for himself within a confusing web of relationships, search for ‘true’ love and the problems of ‘what next’? Remember Simon and Garfunkel’s haunting track ‘Sounds of Silence’? If you haven’t seen the movie — must watch. Well! Not all graduating souls have as dramatic a life as Benjamin, but that doesn’t make life on the whole any less dramatic. To be 21 and a graduate is so different from being in late twenties or thirties and graduating. This post aims to search for that drama in the mundane life of a graduating IITian researcher. But how do you locate drama in the life of people who are deprived of friends and maybe hunting for the ‘right’ job or boy/girl or maybe attempting to negotiate through the excruciating demands of research and marriage? Well! I don’t really have an answer….

Silhoutte of Hostel-11 in the Evening

When the packers come and carry your things — little trinkets and small nothings which you have gathered over the last many years of your stay in the hostel, you feel so badly possessive for each of them. You start feeling the new chaos regarding where do you, your ideas and your things fit into the world. I shall never forget those last few moments of hostel life when I was trying to ‘un-knot’ and pull down my yellow curtains from the large glass windows of my hostel room. A close friend kept packing my things and dumping all the remnants of five years into my bag as if to make the ordeal simpler for me. There is something really ironical about leaving IIT — you leave people or are left behind by people. The entire process of staying and leaving (hopefully with a graduation) is like meeting a portion of ‘real life’ and if you are perceptive enough you realize that life is about packing things (both literally and emotionally) and walking out. The workers and cleaning staff of Hostel-11 kept smiling and praying for me — “didi! aap kab aaoge next?” When I had entered IIT I had come alone with dreams in eyes, graduating from IIT again the walk is alone (except for a few very hard-earned friends and memories) and some of those dreams are still left unrealized. There are a few things that people like us needed to learn from people and their life @ IIT — to take it easy, to hide emotions and try behaving as if we are great assets to the country. Well, this post will be a massive let down for such people. As IITians there are many of us who are yet to learn the quality of emotional and individual honesty and commitment before deciding to ‘sacrifice’ our lives for social and national goals.

The problems of an average researcher at IIT ranges from handling their research topics to library surveys to equation with thesis supervisors to interpersonal relationships and marriage if you are not married or issues of marriage if you are married. It is my personal experience that by the time you negotiate through the alleys of research and the issues of personal life and reach the stage of graduation you become rather dispassionate about things and become a distant observer of life and the passage of events. For many, the moment of submission and the moment of defense brings elation and joy. Talking about my personal experience, when I saw the black-bound gold embossed cover of my thesis and turned a few pages of it I felt a distance, as if I never wrote all those pages in my life, as if someone else was doing all that running around and writing business and as if those five years were spent by someone else — someone who is a stranger, maybe an alter-ego, maybe a magic spell….

During those final moments of ‘good-byes’ with friends, hostelites, teachers and my supervisor I felt a strange emptiness in heart. Especially meeting my research guide was a completely different experience. He was the same person whom I had been meeting for the past five years every morning and afternoon for work and for the thesis. Now, with the last chais at KRESIT the ticking of the clock became heavier. There is a novel of William Faulkner called Sound and the Fury where this ticking of the clock of a character Quentin’s life is dealt in a very strong sense. Somewhere those good-byes kept reminding me of the times past and the ticking of the clock for the future seemed more aggressive and vehement.

I am not sure if every researcher feels the same feelings that I am documenting in my post. We all are different from each other — some have the dire need to break the boundaries of confinement set by research and the last few days for them are just a necessity which has to be lived through. Some of us have outlived the place and need to seek new modes of being imprisoned. However, life is not without confinement — there is no true freedom. In the language of one of my teachers’ ‘freedom is the necessity to chose one’s own bondage’ . Some of us have chosen our bondage and some of us are bound to choose a new confinement — but no one can deny that confinement.

As the cab moved towards the airport, the radio sang out: “Zindagi ke safar mein guzar jaatein hain jo mukaam woh phir nahin aate! (Roughly: those small destinations that move through as the journey of life moves on, never come back)” I looked out as the rains lashed through the black-yellow cab window and caught a glimpse of the last landmark of IIT as we move towards the airport or towards Andheri — hostel 12, standing imposingly next to Renaissance hotel, braving the rain-storm blowing through the Powai lake. I sank back and the cabbie turned back to ask me… “Maam! Kya aap wapas nahin aa rahe hain? (Roughly: Maam won’t you come back?)” I smiled and said: “Nahin! Vijayaji!” The cab passed through Seepz and I just looked out searching unconsciously for some known faces and some long lost friends whom I had met long before joining PhD….

Apologies for this long-long break from the blogosphere. I share with you today an article which I had written in December 2008 for the National Education Day essay competition held at my parent IIT. The essay originally had the title “Twice Born: What Makes Me an IITian”. It had won an award for the best essay. Hope you all enjoy reading it.

Happy blogging!

Anne

I came out on the chariot of the first gleam of light,
and pursued my voyage through the wildernesses of worlds leaving my track on many a star and planet.
It is the most distant course that comes nearest to thyself,
and that training is the most intricate which leads to the utter simplicity of a tune.
(“Journey Home”, Gitanjali, R.N.Tagore)

When I started my journey through the “wilderness” of research and practical rigours of training in Indian Institute of Technology Bombay (IITB), I hardly knew that my life was poised to change forever. Ruminating on the events of the past three years and ten months, I am confounded by the changes in my personality and life.

I joined IITBombay in July 2005 as a Research Scholar in the Department of Humanities and Social Sciences. It was an unconventional choice for a humanities researcher to choose a technical institution rather than the University system for intensive research. People whom I meet in conferences and seminars have asked me this question several times: “Why IIT system for a humanities person and that too a researcher in literature?” My answer has been; “Why not?” I wanted to learn at least a little of both humanities and technology. In the 21st century analysts working in any field of humanities have to deal with global terrorism, cyber crime and fragmented individual and cultural systems. It becomes imperative in this context for researchers to be well equipped with a working knowledge of latest technological developments. In IITs, we get ample opportunity to understand the subtleties both of technology and humanities. IITs give flexibility and free-flow of knowledge ecosystems to individuals who have the will and curiosity to learn. After joining IIT, not only did I get deeper insight into the nuances of my own field, but also got a working knowledge of many other disciplines like sociology, economics, philosophy, computer science, electrical engineering and physics. Today if someone queries me about the relation between visual and verbal, a Kantian worldview, Wittgensteinian concepts, a dragon economy, subaltern in Gayathri Spivak and Partha Chatterji, Dhrut and Madhyam in Hindustani classical music, I would probably not sound so lost. Similarly, I do also understand to a certain extent the significance of Wireless networking for rural India, WCDMA phones, biological research in computer sciences, Quark gluons, General and Special Theories of Relativity and particle physics – something that seem absolutely incredible considering my limited understanding of these subjects. Coming from a completely different knowledge system, I must confess that I was not aware of these research modules earlier. IIT gave me a peer group of research scholars who have given invaluable insights into different facets of research. Whether it is a formal seminar of interdisciplinary nature or an informal session in the hostel mess or a chai meet in any of the canteens, we share and enrich our existing knowledge base.

Earlier during post-graduation days, we used to get our dissertations typed by small DTP shops in our town. At school, we were given theoretical computer knowledge in terms of DOS, MS Office and some elementary know-how of C language without ever being allowed to touch the “real computer”. I had not learnt to use a computer on my own. Back home, when I was struggling to go out of the state for research, some mails that I typed and sent to Professors through the only mail id (which a friend had opened for me) in a Cyber Cafe, were either rejected or not replied to. I had not realized until I came to IIT Bombay that I was coming to a world which runs on a virtual web of email communication.

“Someone should give me a chance to prove myself”, I dreamt. Finally, IIT gave me that chance, but when I went into the course-work phases, my Quixotic romanticism vanished. The most painful part of the coursework phase was to come to terms with my own ignorance. Here, I was competing with some of the well-trained people of India, each one coming from unique educational systems. I was slow – in fact very slow in that pace. While I did not know how to type files in MS Word, how to prepare a PPT, IIT confounded me with LINUX, MATLAB, HTML and other computer related programs. Previously I had only one mail id, at IIT we had five major mail ids and all needed to be thoroughly checked at regular intervals for mails from guides and Professors or for assignment discussions. While my typing speed was pathetically slow, we were given fifteen assignments to be typed and submitted within a month’s time. There was the course seminar report additionally and the power point slides which had to be “perfect”! This was the toughest phase of my career where I was learning to unlearn many things that I had learnt in the past. IITs are special because they motivate the researcher to compete with himself/herself first before competing with others.

It was not all that easy, especially after one comes from a different work place to reinvent oneself. Many researchers come here mostly in their mid-twenties or even later and have to start from scratch. Sometimes our learning, ideologies and age inhibits us from easily accepting a system or jelling ourselves with a new system. However, the grueling process taught to me to be faster and clearer not only in my written work but also in my thoughts and in goal seeking. From lengthy confusing statements, that was a part of my writing style, I was taught to be curt and analytical. I was taught to question even if it were my own course instructors and my own work. Today when we present our paper in international conferences and seminars, this experience gives our presentation an edge over many others. I learnt to have confidence on my work, to defend it as and when required and to be patient, the last one being the most difficult part of my learning process.

Academically, there are a lot of things which if described can very well become a “self-help” treatise. I was being educated on the personal front too – starting from hostel manners to email etiquettes, from research intricacies to changing nature of personal friendships and equations. My association with Research Scholars’ Forum (RSF) and hostel life played an important role in giving insight into the psychology of people and fellow researchers. Single rooms in hostels give us that personal space where we can work and think. In the mess, it is a social gathering where people meet, talk and discuss. However, there is one aspect of researchers residing in the hostel that is slightly disturbing — the level of competition at least until the Presynopsis phase. As researchers, we need to understand that research is not just a degree which can be competed for. Of course, competition gives an incentive to work but “unhealthy comparison” is different from healthy competition. Research is a process and an individual endeavour where we cannot survive if we continue to compare ourselves with peers who seem to be “doing better”.

As a female researcher after coming to IIT many things changed. IITians take a pride in their casual style and an unkempt easy aura. When I had read the IIT lingo in the set of documents distributed to us during the Orientation program of the institute, I was amused by the definition given to girls’ hostels H-10 and H-11 as the “endangered species of IIT”. I often chuckle at the thought of being “endangered” and take a certain amount of honest pride — only an endangered species has something special in itself that demands attention.

As far as my experience of Mumbai is concerned, it has changed in these years from a culture shock to a fond liking of the campus and the city. 26th July 2005 – my first day in Mumbai and also the day of the flash floods. Our batch was a victim of the floods and some of us spent three days in the TV room of Hostel-11 while others chose to live in their labs until the flood subsided. I have sadly witnessed three major disasters that affected Mumbai in the past years – flash floods of 2005, Mumbai local train blasts in 2006 and the recent hostage crisis in CST, Taj, Oberoi and Nariman House in November 2008. The need to be accountable towards our own people acquires foremost significance. Though IITians have succeeded in career goals, we have a long way to go learning to be responsible citizens of a country that puts so much hope on IIT products. I still wonder as IITians when will we learn to pay back our people, not just in terms of money but in terms of services and intellect (which we are so proud of).

IITs are respected so much because they contribute in the overall making of an individual. Each individual has his/her own experiences, work styles and stories to narrate on the theme “how my days in IIT have helped me develop as a person”. If I were to summarize my days in IIT and all that I learnt here in three statements, it would be as follows: (a) I learnt to be humble; (b) I learnt to love my world; and (c) I learnt to forgive others and forgive myself.

The Indian Premier League (IPL) and the tussle between Producers and Mulitplexes in Bollywood has taken its toll on cinema and cinema-goers. IPL has become another name for “reality show”. It is the baapof all reality game shows – these CRICKET matches. IPL has yet again proved that it has a “power” even over the other most important source of entertainment for Indians — TV Serials, Poll Tamasha and CINEMA. This is because Cricket in India is not just a game, it’s a religion. In general, both cinema and cricket make the staple of our entertainment dose, and in fact move beyond entertainment to being the life breath of people who take these as “national pride”. But, the IPL fever has been such that cinema has suffered a serious setback. For a “cinema worshiper” like myself not going to theatre because of the lack of new releases and “good” movies has become some kind of a punishment. Added to this, recession has made the going extremely tough. While, I see many of my seniors and batchmates struggling for a “decent” pay check even after toiling like hell on their thesis or MTPs in IIT, the only thing I feel like having is a heady dose of a real good masala blockbuster in a theatre.

I am becoming nostalgic and slightly angry! I will come to the nostalgia part in a short-while, but first let me recount the reasons for my anger. Let’s pan the camera towards some of the bigger movies that have released in the last few months: Chandni Chowk to China (CC2C), Dilli6, Billu Barber aka Salon Specialist (latter my addition), Aa Dekhen Zara, Firaq, Raaz — the Mystery Continues, Siddharth…. This list is recollected from memory, apologies for slippages if any. Unfortunately, I do not appreciate any of the above movies. The less said about CC2C is better…Dilli6 had the possibilities of an amazing movie with one of my favorite star cast (Waheedaji) and some of the best tracks that I have heard in the recent times (I like Masakali and Genda Phool immensely). But one has to remember that a movie should “speak for itself” rather than “speak about itself”. I went to watch Firaqin the theatres. It is a technically very well-made movie, but if you ask me about its content I would say that it is flawed. Movies which are made with a “social message” are supposedly “balanced” in their “judgement” of a particular incident. Firaq comes under that genre of cinema and so naturally one expects that it shows a certain kind of “balanced” portrayal of the sensitivities associated with both religions. But….

I am having a hunch that in the name of making “serious cinema” or “matured cinema”, our “cinema-making” capabilities are suffering badly. Added to that, media, cinema-makers and actors have made “gossip” a staple for PRing a particular movie. If you observe the current trend of Bollywood, before every release there is a new gossip to pepper the marketing of a movie but no one bothers to look into the subtleties of acting or making a “real good movie“. I suspect it is the PR-ship of a movie which is responsible for the saleability of the movie rather than the movie itself. Take the war between Khans, the over-hyped and sometimes maligned life of Salman, Katrina-Ranbir/Preity-Ness and innumerable such stories. It seems that the “cinema-lovers” attention has now diverted from actual cinema into the rumours and real life drama in the lives of celebrities. We are virtually given the life of Big Boss viewers. Not that there were no gossips or rumors in the yester-year celebrities. Starting from Nargis-Rajkapoor to Hemamalini-Dharmender or Amitabh-Rekha to the current Sanju-Manyata rumour mills have always been ablaze. These yesteryear stars were not only celebrities who gave reasons for rumours because of their public image, they were also great actors and immensely dedicated to their career.

The trend has changed now. Today the personal lives of stars are so flavored and served in such gorgeously decked-up china platters that they appear more delicious than their movies themselves. For instance, while reading articles one on Sharukh’s pay cut and the other on Rishi Kapoor’s recent interview to Rajeev Masand in a famous news channel, I felt a twinge of sadness and sympathy . The life of an actor like Shahrukh is being measured by the “cut in his pay check” and that he had to accept it in a wedding “for not dancing”! Similarly, it was actually not in a good taste to say that Katrina is “better” than Deepika just about the time when a new movie of Ranbir-KatrinaAjab Prem ki Gajab Kahaniis about to hit the theatres. Is this gossip thing not going a little too far and actually destroying the potential of good actors who are now paying more attention to their lives off-screen rather than on-screen?

That brings us to the “small town cinema” aspect and to Amarnath Talkies.

I am sure that hardly any of my readers might have even heard of “Amarnath Talkies“. It is a small single-screen theatre of a capacity not more than a 150-200 people in the sleepy town of Dhenkanal somewhere in the heart of Odisha. The theatre has a balcony that is called sankha and a small arena called samudra. The balcony caters to the “well-to-do” people of the town and also to the newly married couples who get a rare once or twice in a life time privilege of getting away from their extended families in the name of “taking ‘her’ to the cinema” 😉 . The cost of these balcony seats extend not beyond 20-30 rupees per head. The movies that premiered in Mumbai are released in the these small-town theatres after nearly a 7-8 months gap. In those days, we used to read reviews in Cine Blitz or Film Fare, read gossips and wait eagerly for a certain movie to release. The release of a certain block-buster movie carried a great fanfare. A peddle rickshaw decked up with huge posters of the movie and a man sitting inside with a bhonpoo (loud speakers) in hand, would be shrieking and announcing the arrival of a new movie in town: “Heyi heyi re! Asantu dekhiba Amir-Juhinka Dhamaka Ishq apanka nijara Amarnath theatre re (Let’s all go and watch the new movie Ishq starring Amir Khan and Juhi Chawla in your nearest Amarnath theatre) !” I always enjoyed listening to these announcements as they really served to heighten the anticipation for the movie 🙂 .

Well, we hardly got to watch movies in Amarnath Talkies and the reasons were simple — the theatre was always littered with pan thook and smelt of bidi . The hoot and whistling in the hall almost drowned the voice of stars performing on screen. Generally parents were afraid of taking their “grown-up” daughters to such theatres because the comments were somewhat “below dignity”. Yet, there were unique occasions when parents could not deny taking the kids to watch movies. When movies like Saajan, Ishq, Dil toh Pagal Hai, Kuchh Kuchh Hota Hai released, their fame was such that they could be avoided at no cost. These movies came to the theatre almost a year after they were released in Mumbai and by then they had already become mega blockbusters.

My own experience with these small town theatres are highly nostalgic. For instance, an entire theatre in Angul (my parents worked there) was booked by a relative as a birthday gift for me. We all went to watch Raja Hindustani with four-five friends and their families and the relatives’ family in that theatre where we were served tea and juice. In general, on most of the occasions it used to be night-shows in Amarnath Talkies with aunts, uncles, parents and friends and that too with “dinner only at home” as the condition (not like cinema goers of Mumbai). Watching a movie was no less than a carnival. 🙂 In another instance, we had run away from school to watch Dilwale Dulhaniya Le Jayenge in one of these theatres. We bunked school after the tiffin-hours and went to the Talcher talkies with friends to watch this movie which had become a cult of our times. But, the fear of being caught and punished kept looming large and made the experience of the movie even more enjoyable. My grandfather took me to a special screening in Amarnath Talkies of the English movie ET and its Odiya adaptation, meant specially for journalists, writers and critics. Those were the times when we could connect to the movie itself and the thought of the movie remained fresh on our minds like the taste of chocolates….

These small town theatres served another purpose. They were the major source of promoting regional cinema in their showtimes. Every Durga Puja or Kali Puja or Id , blockbuster movies released which sustained the regional film industries. But, with the arrival of VCD/DVDs and pirated movies, regional movies suffered huge losses. As a result, today you do not find movies like Amada Bata (The Untrodden Path), Danda Balunga (The Street Loafer) Adina Megha (The Unseasonal Cloud), Samuka (The Shell), etc any more in Odiya film industry. Regional films have actually suffered a huge setback in Odisha (in Maharastra to some extent too) where the audiences are more biased towards Bollywood. Not only the viewers are responsible for the debacle of regional movies, but also the producers/directors are equally responsible with their small investment, verbatim copy of Bollywood movies and very bad cinematography (Telugu and Tamil movies are exceptions to some extent). It is not correct to say that good writers, scripts, directors are lacking in these places. There are good writers, scripts and directors, but the investment is definitely poor and so is the mindset. Moreover, since most of the small-town theatres have closed down so where would the prints be sold? Many of these theatres have been converted into Kalyan Mandaps or worse still have become places where goons, loafers and underworld lives. But the thought of Maharaja theatre, Shreya-Stuti or Amarnath theatre in Odisha arouses the same kind of longing for a “good” movie as does the thought of Regal, Metro or Shreyas in Mumbai.

Somehow, as an ardent movie-fan I wish for a change we made some real cool masala hits, forgetting the “technicalities” and the “processes” of movie making. Recently, I was talking on phone with an aunt in Odisha and she was going gaga over Salman’s God Tussi Great Ho which she got to see in one of these smaller theatres. I was wondering what was so intelligent or cool about the movie? I went back and watched that movie and I am not ashamed to admit that I enjoyed it much more than Singh is King (the latter was a huge hit)….

Hmm! how I pray that this war between producers and multiplexes end soon. I have already started missing the movies…. 🙂

For My Readers:Some part of the content of this post is very IIT Bombay specific, related to the internal dynamics of Undergraduates (UGs) and Postgraduates (PGs) in IIT Bombay and to an ongoing event in the campus called the PG Cult and my personal experience with it. Apologies if the post doesn’t appeal to all….

Prologue: Three years ago when I joined IIT Bombay as a researcher, I was starry-eyed and full of stuffs of which dreams are made. Lot happened with me and by me in the past three years, lot of things changed including the fact that I got “tamed” to a certain extent, but still the wild-wacky passionate spirit is very much a part of my personality. There are certain things which intrigue me, anger me and trouble me deeply, the most apparent one being — who is interested in a Phd? Do PhDs need to be “pretending” perennially that they are nerds and geeks — are they not supposed to be witty, fashionable, academic and versatile? The mentality of the general public about research, research in India is extremely dicey.

Let’s begin by questioning, who is into research? People who want to get a promotion in their jobs? People who did not find a suitable job and decided to try their hands at academics? People who are so impatient that they cannot wait for one year rigorous research to get a degree? People who fret and sulk about “jobs”, “partners” and a “hung” life?, people who take research as integral part of their lives, as a commitment and a luxury, who feel research should make them a little more insightful and enrich them (romanticism and idealism to some extent)? All these “kinds” comprise the fraternity of researchers in any place (may be around the world, am not so sure).

Whatever it is, for the last three years, my personal endeavour has been to win respect and admiration for that “job” called “research” through our group activity called “Research Scholars’ Forum (RSF)” at IIT Bombay. Time and again our team is confounded by the same question: who is interested in a PhD? Sometimes this question is posed by research scholars who are groping in the darkness of finding a suitable topic, adjusting with the IIT ecosystem and finding a suitable supervisor; sometimes by institute authorities some of whom are divided between making IIT a place for Undergraduate excellence or Postgraduate and Research excellence; sometimes by some non-academic staffs who think researchers are being unnecessarily paid higher scholarships when they are “good-for-nothing” creatures and are just “students”; sometimes by “friends” who claim that they are being paid such-such amount in X-X organization; sometimes by parents, society who worry that these are outcasts who may not get a bride/groom; and sometimes painfully by a part of the Undergraduate IIT population who think that researchers are “second-class senior citizens” of an institute which has been basically formed for them and by them.

The list can go until an nth point but still research thrives and survives. Mysterious? Yeah…

The Story: This rather long prologue was meant to be the backdrop for a story of my personal experience, something that happened on 31st Jan…

There was a huge publicity campaign a few weeks ago regarding the “First PG Cult” (cultural) event of IIT Bombay. Many were excited as the event was meant to be for PGs (which includes the PhDS, Project Staffs, M.Phils, M.Techs). The title of the event in its promotional was: “Are you a PG I am interested in you…”. Many PhDs had never got such an opportunity to showcase their talents because the scale of Mood-Is and Techfests are too large and noisy for the quieter population of IIT. There were enthusiastic discussions, planning and gossip about the forthcoming event at our hostel mess tables. The rules were: (a) More the number of entries from one department, the more the points that are awarded to that particular department. (b) The competition is open for all PGs, M.techs, Project Staffs and PhDs.

Some of us decided to participate in all the major competitions so that we win maximum points for our department. There are two stages of this competition: (a) Stage 1: (30th and 31st Jan) Elocution, PG Idol (prelims), Paintings, Quiz, Ms. and Mr. PG (prelims); (b) Stage 2: (7th and 8th March) Dance, Dramatics, Ad Making, PG Idol (finals) and Ms. and Mr. PG (finals). I sent my entry for the on-line elimination of a speaking event called Ms. PG. Only 15 could make it for the prelims, including me. The schedule for the competition was 8pm of 31st Jan. My intention and expectation from the event was high as some of us (can speak for some friends from PhD) thought that it will give a chance to rediscover our selves and our talents. However, as often is the case in IITs, that all fun is followed by deadlines, 31st Jan was a deadline for me for a major submission. I have very high opinion about my own capabilities of multitasking and kept reminding myself that I will be able to complete my submission procedure and reach the venue of the competition on time as 8pm was far off. Kept working on the paper from morning, had a meeting with my guide in the afternoon with the pre-pre-final draft.

In the afternoon, I got a call from adviser asking me if I can reschedule the meeting for 6.30pm in the evening as he was caught up with some urgent work. I said a “yes, of course” to him and gave up the idea of being able to make it to the competition. But, some part of me kept telling me “oh we can make it”. Reached sir’s place dot at 6.30pm (he stays away from campus), had a rigorous discussion with him on the paper for the next one hour fifteen minutes and kept marking my hard copy with his suggestions, modifications and corrections, and simultaneously kept looking at my watch — 6.45pm, 7.00pm, 7.15pm,7.20pm….Finally, at 7.21pm just as we were about to finish the last dot mark on the reference page, gathered the courage to tell him, “sir, there is a PG cultural competition going on in the campus. My entry has been selected for Ms. PG, the competition begins at 8.pm. Can I go for it? I will definitely incorporate the changes suggested by you by tonight and send it to them.” Seeing me nervous and fidgety, he smiled and said, “you should have told me before…I would not have kept you so long.” He went inside quickly and got an idli and some chutney for me on a plate, gave it to me and said, “have it…you may not have had anything for tiffin. Eat this and go and remember everything is important, if academics is important so is your personal life. Go for the competition it is a very good event to prove that researchers are capable of a lot of things.” I just mumbled a “thank you” …ran down the three floors of the staircase as the lift was held up somewhere on the 7th floor…almost toppled a gentleman down on the street, vehemently stopped an auto which was being stopped by another lady (she must have thought this is a medical emergency), jumped into the auto and shouted at the autowallah with one finger raised like a shot into the air :): “bhaiyaa jalddiiii! IIT campus…!” Poor chap he panicked seeing me panicky, looked helplessly at three different routes, and then drove like mad through the shortest possible route. The clock kept ticking 7.35pm… 7.40pm…7.45pm…we entered the back gate of IIT Bombay…7.52pm we were there at SAC. I offered the autowallah a twenty rupees extra, but he replied :” na didi it’s allright…aaplog ishstudent ho…zaroor kuchh kaam hoyega tabhi hum itni jaldi aye” . He scooted away and I ran to the SAC yoga room.

Congratulating myself on my diligence and punctuality, I entered the place to find no one around. The yoga room was pitch dark and latched from outside. I had no clue if the event was happening at all — I was dressed up in a slightly formal fashion as a mark of respect for the competition that I was entering into. At 8.05 pm a young gentleman came, introduced himself and said that he was both an organizer and a participant. We opened the room, switched on fans and lights and sat…sat…sat…8.45 pm…no trace of a single soul…9.00pm one or two participants turn up…9.15pm I start getting worried about my paper and there is a slight hustle-bustle, someone announcing — “judges are here!” We got alert, enter the judges. Most of them know each other, they give me an astonished glance (a PhD here? :0 ) I smile back…concealing my nervousness. We wait for some more time…some organizers call up the participants who had yet not turned up. Lazily people sit chatting, enjoying and cracking jokes….

Finally at 9.25pm the event starts, judges casually discuss their strategy to judge these participants.There was no tailor-made format to judge the participants, that’s what appeared from their body language. There were seven girls and eight boys in all. The judges were introduced as “Mr. X.and X…JEE rankers, CAT cracks, winner of many national competitions, B.Tech 3rd year/4th year IIT Bombay….” I couldn’t believe my ears. Cracking JEE or CAT is no doubt great, but that does not mark the end of competition and life. A PG event where PhDs have chosen to participate is being judged by UGs? Anyway, I will compete in the game, doesn’t matter who judges, who wins and who loses.

The first round was announced: a GD round! I was not clustered in the first group. The topic that was given to the first group rhymed with the predicament of the judges: “Should UGs judge PGs?” Majority in that group kept saying that “UGs are better and more talented than PGs” . The pain of not being able to make it in the the JEE seemed to shadow the debate. Each one, had the same opinion. Then came the turn of my group in the GD, the topic that was given to us was: “should co-ed hostels be setup in IITs?” Honestly, I found the topics clever but unimpressive. However, the group was divided between men telling that a co-ed hostel is necessary and women claiming that co-ed hostels destroy “Indian” culture. I was the only female in the group who supported the idea of a co-ed hostel not because of any implicit sexual need but because co-ed hostels are a necessity considering the infrastructural limitations of IITs. I tried to tell them that the philosophy of a co-ed hostel is not to “share” rooms or “bathrooms” but to share a living space. If we think that “Indian” culture is so flimsy that it is destroyed by a co-ed hostel, then we are mistaken. Many Defence academies, IAS academy, TIFR have co-ed hostels. No one’s modesty or cultural values are outraged because you share a wing or a living space with someone from the “other” sex. Anyway, I made it to round 2 after an elimination of the 15 to 12 and it was 10.00 pm by then…

The second round was something which went completely against my personal ideologies. The round was named: “Quote-Unquote” where you have to speak for a topic the moment judges give the signal and change your stance in no time as judges clap for you to speak against the topic. We used to have this competition in school when our English teacher taught us “conversation skills” in class. I myself had used this tactics as a Lecturer in Communication Skills class for first year B.Techs. The format showed the apathy of judges and their gross disregard for the competitors who are of PG level. But, I decided to fight back, now it was an intoxication rather than a competition for me and I thought if that’s what it takes to prove that we are good (researchers) then I will prove it. I was given the topic “Valentine’s Day goes against Indian culture” … managed to do a fairly good job of it. The judges went on with each participant for more than 7 minutes with each participant….I had not thought the event will go on for so long.

Now, I felt helpless,looked at the watch and it was quarter to 11. Thought, better give it up, nothing is more important than my deadline. I told a “quit” to the judges and organizers, voiced my opinion that even though I did not like the format, yet I tried my best to keep competing, and finally came out of the venue. I was hungry and sad…. The competition was not merely a “cultural” competition, but it meant a lot for some of us. I had no friends with me to cheer me up. There were tears in my eyes — tears of my stubborn ego, tears of frustration, tears of loneliness and tears of ageing. Yeah, I felt I am growing old for the first time in my life…my spirit doesn’t go with the content of the world….I asked myself: “is there anyone who is interested in PhDs, their lives and their activities?”

I walked to Gulmohur, ordered for a Dal-Khichdi…fortunately was just on time for the last servings of Gulmohur. Had my dinner, walked to Hemant’s lab (I was afraid of this loneliness), borrowed his laptop and started with the editing job of my paper. The moment I saw my paper, I was jolted back and cheered up — yeah this is my life! Cleared the clouds of desperation and typed vehemently until 4.30 am, when I finally sent the paper to an international destination. Came back to room, slept barely for a few hours, woke up by 8.30 am to check for any revisions in the sent draft. Found some errors and retyped and resent the paper once again. I went finally to a peaceful sleep at 10.00 am and woke up at 4.00 pm in the afternoon when my guide called up saying: “good morning! I realized you haven’t slept through the night as I got the copy of your paper at 4.30 am. So how was the competition? Did you make it? ” My throat choked and I had only half a line: “sorry sir…I couldn’t…”.

Epilogue: I still did not give up. Wrote feedback mails to the organizers, to the present coordinator of Research Scholars’ Forum and the PG Nominee acad. Some fellow researchers who went for other competitions like elocution and painting had similar experiences. Some of them used my mails as rejoinder mails. But, who cares for the real “aamjunta“? Neither the RSF co nor the PG Nominee bothered to reply even in a one-liner. One of the organizers replied with a non-committal “we will take note of your points” kind of answer. But, there was no concrete response. When I met the RSF co he said that “this involves all PGs and not just researchers, so I can’t interfere.” I don’t understand the politics involved in choosing between UGs and PGs, I don’t understand the “procedures” of approaching, all that I understand is unless researchers whether Postgraduates or PhDs understand and respect themselves, no one will respect them or their position. Research doesn’t mean only academics, research means life and love…we are the ones who can bring the real small/big changes.

And here, the change is big, coming in small packets though. The initial fight might seem insignificant to some, but the fight has gathered momentum down the line in both the number and arguments. Looks like the second phase of the event will no longer be judged by the UGs. The more the number of the RSs participating, the more vigorous will be the change, not only in PG Cult, but also in other institute activities.

But, one thing I learnt from the entire episode, “don’t give up, fight till the end for justice. It will come some day, sooner or later” 🙂

” A day’s work at IIT“… tough theme…. Each one here is peculiar in his/her working style, time-table and pace. Perhaps, you will find all varieties of working styles and personal choices in people here. But, since we are more acquainted with the research ecosystem of IIT Bombay, we will discuss about the researchers and their lives. If you observe researchers closely for a few months, you can write a thesis on the people working here, their lives and their behavioral patterns.

From ultra work freaks who spend 24X7 in the labs to people who spend 24×7 in hostels — sleeping, watching movies, roaming around unshaven/unbathed for days or taking more beauty sleeps than required, you will find all sorts of people here. From hyper-social to hypo-social, atheists to ascetics, geniuses to mediocrity, each one is a sample in their own right. In the last three and half years, I have had the privilege of watching, talking and observing my fellow specimens from a close perspective. Again the course work phases are different from the post-coursework times. But an average day for a researcher differs in its output and magnitude. Sometimes the day doesn’t move beyond a 0.00 output and at other times it just soars into +100. Well, I am a sample in my own way ;).

Let’s narrate the story of “Radha”, another researcher at IIT Bombay and get a peek-a-boo into her life and working style.

Radha snaps angrily at the alarm clock buzzing next to her bed at 9.00 am (early morning!!). She decides a 10 minutes snooze will do the job of getting her a little more accomplished sleep. The 10 minutes snooze moves into a 20 minutes snooze, and again to a 30 minute snooze. Every time, Radha wakes up with the buzz and she decides a 10 more minutes of sleep will do the job, she doesn’t forget even in her deepest dream to put the alarm into snooze. From 9.00am the alarm keeps snoozing and buzzing…till its 10.00 am…and then…the phone rings! Still half asleep, Radha takes the call and droopingly says…“heeeeeeelooo! who..os that?” the voice on the other side curtly replies…

“Hello, Radha are you busy? I want you to meet me by 10.30 am sharp and don’t be late.”

Lol!!!!! all sleep vanishes with the “hello”…

Guide!! 😛 … .

Wiping away traces of the last lovely sleep, Radha is alert and wide awake, “Oh no maam/sir! I am just coming back from the breakfast table. Of course, I am ready! Will be there @ your office by 10.30 am sharp! Thank you maam/sir!” She struts out of the bed rubbing her eyes badly, hits the bed post, curses it loudly: “damn! why do I always have a zero ground clearance?”and runs.

Oh! Gosh! Only thirty minutes left to go to the department!! Radha takes the brush and face wash…pours the largest quantity of face wash and literally bruises her facial skin in order to remove the last traces of sleep. The face wash goes hand in hand with brushing…one hand you hold the brush and the other you keep massaging your face with the face wash — in the last few years Radha has become an expert in multitasking and “risk management” 🙂 … . While brushing, she decides, “OK will come back after the meeting and take a bath… can’t afford that luxury sweety!” Hunts the almairah for some decent salwar kameez…but “oh gosh! forgot to iron them after washing… forget the salwar kameez! Let me hunt for that jeans which I wore last week…oh here it is!” Promptly a tee-shirt and jeans is hunted out, Radha changes into it…forgets to comb her unkempt hair… looks at the watch…10.20am…picks her bag and runs downstairs. She hunts into her bag for a Tum-Tum ticket, but… “oh! heck! I left the ticket bunch in my last to last jeans pocket! I put that jeans in the washing machine…It must have been cleaned away along with the jeans. Ok, let’s get an auto-rickshaw.” No auto in the vicinity, have to walk to the department! Through the entire distance people observe Radha mumbling curses to herself, “Dammn! I shouldn’t sleep so much! Why God, why does it happen with me! ” People smile at Radha and she’s oblivious of the world.

10.35 am: Radha reaches department, panting, red-faced (the way from girl’s hostel to the academic area is a steep hillock)… Guide is already there in his/her office. Radha takes a second to calm down before entering the office, forces a smile, “May I come in”…Guide looks at the watch and looks up at Radha from his/her computer stifles a smile and sternly says…”Come in Radha…you are still five minutes late. Anyway, come in, sit and drink some water. I want you to tell me your progress. What happened to the book that I gave you two weeks ago? Have you read that? Can you summarize it for me?”

She has not even opened the Preface page of the book 😛 . But…”Oh yes! Actually you see I am still stuck in the tenth page of first chapter. I didn’t get the philosophy behind the lines of the sixth paragraph, but I forgot to get that book todayelse you could have helped me understand …” . Guide cuts her short, “Alright… I got it! You take one more week and come back next time with the complete summary. Radha when will you increase your pace…I am worried about you” … Radha looks out of her guide’s office window, spots a chimpanzee making faces at her from a branch of the tree outside, immediately averts her gaze and thinks, “yeah I have to increase my pace…will work day and night from today and “STUDY”!How happy that chimpanzee is…it doesn’t have to write a thesis.” 😦 The guide understands and looks at her speculatively asking, “is everything Ok?” … “Yeah…yeah…fine…I wrote that paper…it’s almost complete“. Some more sessions in the meeting and Radha comes out of the office, panting and puffing, determined to work more diligently.

12.00noon: Radha comes to her lab from guide’s office…sees that others are lost in books, papers and notes. She walks seriously and grabs a PC hurriedly, opens her own books, opens her paper that she’s been editing since last four weeks and seriously decides to “STUDY” ! One half page later, she thinks…“Oh some important mails…I haven’t checked my mails since morning” …. Opens her Gmail, GPO, Yahoo, Rediff … EE mail 😉 and ponders over them, including the forwards. Suddenly, people start popping out from chat boxes of her Gmail… “Hey Radha…”, “hi Radha”…“did you see Rab Ne? Slum Dog Millionaire” … Radha happily chats with the red, green chat buttons….

And then… “Radha! are you busy? Please come after you finish to my office…have to give you some papers to review”! … Guide! 😛 …He/she saw her chatting, Radha knocks her head down on the table…“yes sir/maam coming in a moment…!”

1.15pm: Tired and bugged with her half day stint Radha decides to go back to hostel for food and decides to “STUDY” in the afternoon. Hostel-11 mess is crowded…Radha grabs a chair close to some friends and colleagues. Puts her bag to reserve her seat, goes inside the mess to get a plate…comes out to get food…realizes that she forgot to get bowls for dal and curd … goes inside to get two bowls…. She is starving! The food is chawal and lauki sabzi (a kind of vegetable), she makes a face at the sabzi, quickly serves herself some dal-chawal, pickle and curd…comes back to the place she had reserved for herself…all her friends have already finished and left. Tired…her hunger by this time is already forgotten. “But oh heck! I forgot to get a spoon and a glass of water…Shit! Why am I a researcher?” 😦 …She rushes back all the way inside the kitchen and gets a spoon and a glass of water…quickly pushes spoonfuls of food, keeps her plate at the wash area, ascends the three-storey B-wing to her room in the third floor 😉 .

2.00pm : Radha loves her room…neat, gorgeous and a girl’s heaven. It’s a den in the afternoon, you pull the curtains and it becomes a cool-dark cave. She decides to get up at 3.30pm and “STUDY!” … Takes her favourite quilt, sleeps….zzzz…..

5.30pm: Phone buzzes…Radha wakes up with a start. “Is this a missed call for breakfast or tiffin? It’s morning or is it evening? ” Radha can’t decide…she keeps rubbing her eyes…but the clock refuses to budge from a “5” and a “30” pm 😦 … . Determined to “STUDY” she goes downstairs with her satchel, eats and gossips with friends…6.00pm, 6.30pm…”Oh I have to run to the department” …. Gets up, walks with her bag towards the department…half way down…she talks to herself , “evening is beautiful, in fact poetic…let’s go to the lake side for a short-brisk walk…an evening walk boosts memory power scientists say” 😉 … And, then she scoots down the convo road, takes a short-cut and lands near the Powai lake. The evening is gorgeous indeed! Radha sits “evening-dreaming” …spots a young couple (probably B.Techs) sitting close to each other and talking sweet nothings…. Radha decides that after she “STUDIES” she will like to have such a boy friend …. The clock says it’s 8.15pm…”Oh God why Does this clock run marathons! Dinner time! Why did I come to lake side? can’t go to department now…will go back have dinner and “STUDY” 😦 “…

8.30pm: Mess, same people, same faces, same gossips…. One girl says: “you know I have twenty five papers accepted in thirty two journals, 30 conference papers and a handful of corporate offers with a package of 28lakhs p.a” …. Another lady keeps asking, “so when are you submitting your thesis? I have been here only for a year and half …I am ready with my pre-synopsis” …. Radha thinks “I will go to my room and “STUDY” ” Another beauty conscious lady suggests “Radha why don’t you do something about your pimples? And for god’s sake stop wearing those grey tees and red-framed specs…you look so god-damn oldie!” There’s another lady who’s ultra-interested in others’ lives and other people’s researches. She knows the “a,b,c…z” of everyone’s personal and professional lives, including who joined PhD in which lab, who left PhD from which lab…. Radha too has her share of gossips, she discusses the couple sitting by the lake side and in her stupidly romantic clichés, she manages to extract a mass sigh: “hmmmmmmm”….

9.30pm: Back to room…all quiet on every front. Radha opens her books, papers and really “STUDIES” till 12.00 midnight…. LAN Ban in hostel and so no more work …

1.00am: Knock! Knock! Radha, still singing with Dev Anand, goes to open the door…”didi can you lower the volume of your singing and of your movie…we have our assignment and midterms!” “Oh sure!” Radha comes back fuming, gives a kick to her sound box so that it stops playing, shuts down her PC and mutters mimicking her neighbour: “didi! volume…unhh! when we have APS these people dance on the floor on ‘bidi jaleyile’ and now my Dev Anand, my sweet Dev Anand is creating problem for their assignment! Bull s****!”

2.30am: Still no sleep…Radha keeps turning and twisting…and with each turn she decides to “wake up early in the morning…do some Yoga…take a bath (she could not bathe the entire day)…pray God…and “STUDY!” She tinkers with her phone, then sets it to FM mode and a voice huskily announces: “doston yeh hai Akashwani aur aap sun rahe hain FM Rainbow… main hoon apka pyara humsafar Milind Inamdar aur yeh hai humara show “Dil se”…aaj humare paas jo dil aya hai woh hai padhne wala dil …jo dil ek nazar mein sab kuchh padh sake” and then the RJ plays, “kitaben bahut si padhi hongi tumne magar koi chehra bhi tumne padha hai?” (Transl. “Friends this is All India Radio and you are listening to FM Rainbow. I am your friend Milind and this show is called “Dil Se”. Today we have the studious heart on our show, the heart which can read eyes”) Radha is now satisfied, she sets her alarm for “9.oo am” and with every new song slowly trails to sleeeeeeppp and in her dreams decides to “STUDY”! 🙂

10.00am: Phone rings, “Radha! can you come…?” 🙂

P.N.: This is a fictional character and the only resemblance that it has to any person dead or living is “Anne De plume” 🙂 …. But it’s just one aspect of our daily lives…there are many more….I thank my readers to have extracted the “honest” narration from Iris 😉 … But, on a serious note this perpetual thought of “STUDY” is common to all researchers in IIT Bombay and this thought itself is enough to keep you always on your toes and makes research such a gratifying job.

So how many New Year wishes, B’day wishes, Job success wishes , etc, etc did you receive this season end on your Orkut, Facebook, etc, etc ? 🙂

In India where “lonely hearts” are ample in quantity and quality, where marriages are “distinctly” and “distantly planned”, where singles are not easily allowed to mingle, social networking sites have boomed. Parents are attempting to be “open-hearted”, “broad-minded” by allowing kids to keep “in touch” with their friends, friend’s friends, friends’-friends- friends — of course not “really” but through these sites. Kids (I will come to adult networking in a short-while) in their turn are happy to be “in touch”. I have observed a particular characteristic in the teenagers and the younger generation on Orkut (that’s the site I mostly follow) — they do not easily write their original names or put their pictures, partly because they are afraid that someone might misuse their names and pictures, and partly because they think it is “fun” to remain anonymous. Of course it is adventurous! 🙂 You can find strange names like “horny” , “butterfly”, “bee”, “f****** ghost”, “rambo”, “mah dreams” — sending friend requests, writing funny scraps and hovering around your page and visiting your site at least 30-40 times a day (if your page interests them). While female young networking “bees” take a pride in making new friends , males sometimes get into extremes. They send queer (using it in its literal sense, no critical meaning implied) messages and threatening friend requests thinking that they can impress — and maybe they do! Like a “lot can happen o’er coffee”, so also a lot can happen at your networking site 🙂 …

A very interesting element of these sites are “relationship status” and the funny ways that people deal with this clause. I know of many friends and acquaintances on Orkut who have declared themselves “committed” or even “married” (while “single” in status) to keep away creatures poking nose into their sites unnecessarily. Many of my students (ex-students) have declared themselves in interesting relationship patterns on these social networking sites. Sometimes, parents are shocked to see the site of their teenage son/daughter. I had once come across the site of friend’s younger sister who happened to be a reclusive and introvert in her “visual” life, i.e. as she appeared to us. But, I was amazed to see the breadth of her “virtual” life on her site. She was by all means a hyper-active and more than social on her page. The image that she projected on her Orkut was so-so very different from that of the image that she had among her friends and fellow-beings. I have observed that teenagers (whom I personally know) who are a little reserved and self-conscious in their personal lives become very open in their social sites — probably the reason being these sites open up avenues of anonymity yet friendships.These sites are great places to “flout” parental and societal rules.

Coming to adult networking; well it’s a more complex story. In the adult world rather than making friendships, networking sites are more of “partnership” building opportunities in their positive sense. Adults don’t bother making new friends, what we bother about is to be on a look out for opportunities — professional for some while personal for others. For instance, while travelling abroad if you need people to help you out — search for some communities on your networking site, or if you intend to look for jobs or professional networking look for some friends or acquaintances on these sites who might be of help. Similarly, if you are dating a guy or a girl peep into their Orkut/facebook and gain some insight into their “sub-conscious” 😉 .

However the complexities that I am talking of are subtle — the story zeroes at “flaunting” and “pretending” in your network. The interesting aspect is that these sites turn you into voyeurs peeping into others’ lives. The philosophy behind these networking sites is: projecting to the world what you or your life is in your personal opinion, as we all intend (even if unconsciously) to be perceived in a certain way. The way the world perceives you on these sites is the way you-yourself want to be perceived. For instance, I may have a pathetic sense of humour in my personal life and I may hardly socialize, but my site might project me as the soul of every party. I may hardly have a philanthropic sense but my site projects me as a saint, I may hardly look gorgeous or hep but my site projects me as a diva with looks that can murder 😉 (thanks to hi-fi editing techniques), and thus goes the list.

Related aspects in this web of social networking are arousing “envy” and “flaunting” what you possess while others don’t! Oh, I am in a brilliant educational institution having the “brains” that can make an entire Google go shy of itself, and I have to show it to the “lesser-mortals” that exist in some far away places! I have the brawn and body that can make Angelina Jolie swoon, so let me show myself to the ugly ducklings! I have the palatial mansion of Charles-III 🙂 , come visit it virtually. I have a job that can mortify Prof. Amartya Sen, so why don’t you see my salary and my office ambience! 🙂 … thus goes the list. In fact, the display artefacts can get even to the minutest level of your new “laptop” or your favourite music system 🙂 😀 ! Interestingly, if you observe our motive, we display these things not for people whom we don’t know or who are mere acquaintances, these are in fact meant to be shown to people who know us very well and some of whom will be genuinely happy for us, and also for those who might just get “J” (the “J” thing is more pertinent in adults 😉 ). Some of the things that provide genuine happiness (to most of us I suppose) is to see people’s art, sketches, creative artefacts, photographic samples, things which are beyond material worth. Rest, one of the first emotions that is provoked is, Oh I wish I had the life which that person has…he/she is so happy!But, we do not realize that it is just a surface veneer which has many layers to the “actual” story.

There are different types of these networking sites — professional, personal and matrimonial. The less said about matrimonial sites the better it is. Maybe another Blog post can be written to specifically cater to matrimonial sites. However, in these sites too the prospective brides/grooms project the best of their image for making themselves lucrative “products” in the matrimonial bazar.

Regarding my personal experiences with social networking sites–hmm, I have a love-hate relationship with them. I am a voyeur thanks to these sites (some of my closest pals chide me for that) and also inspire voyeurism in others 🙂 … My anger sometimes bursts forth in form of deleting an entire account with some 5000 precious scraps 🙂 at one jerk, and then again I re-emerge like a Phoenix from ashes with 55 new pictures (joke intended) 🙂 ….

However, we are social creatures and on a positive note these sites teach us to project our very best to the world and be happy and share our happiness. But, on the negative side people take these projected images too seriously and unhealthy, deadly competition is aroused. I have seen beautiful fairy-tale kind of love stories break due to one stupid error on such sites, friends become enemies and you have more spies than well-wishers to cater to and sometimes even established relationships like marriages are plunged into danger. Maturity in thinking and in analyzing is really important when we are part of any group — virtual or real! In fact it is trust, fellow-feeling and the way we handle our relationships which actually determine the kind of person we become in the long term. Unfortunately, most of us commit blunders in this context. By merely brooding over others’ achievements and following blindly their formulae of success may lead us not very far in our life.

So, folks if you are indeed hooked on to any of these sites, then formulate your own style statement and remember that all that glitters is not gold …Happy surfing! 🙂

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